by Aristophanes
and of her there isn’t a sign.
I’ve been lying awake and wanting to poop for an aeon.
Where are my shoes? Where is my cloak?
It’s devilish difficult to see in the dark.
Meanwhile the man who cleans out the chamber pots has been897
hammering at my back door and making such a din
that I’ve grabbed my wife’s slip and put her slippers on
and been forced to let him in.
But to poop, to poop, where can I poop without being seen?898
Anywhere, I suppose, will do in the dark:
my pooping will be difficult to spot.
Lord, what a fool I’ve been,
letting myself get married at my age—what a dunce!
I deserve to be whipped. . . . Oh, where has she slipped?
Anyway, I’ve got to do my wants.
[He squats by some bushes but is spotted from MADAM B’s balcony by a NEIGHBOR, who holds up a lantern.]
NEIGHBOR: Who’s down there? . . . Surely not Blepyrus my neighbor? My God, it is. . . . Hey, what are you wearing yellow for? It looks like Cinesias’ diarrhea.899
BLEPYRUS: Not so. It’s the little crocus-colored slip my wife likes to
wear.
NEIGHBOR: Don’t you have a cloak?
BLEPYRUS: Seems not . . . I couldn’t find it on the bed.
NEIGHBOR: Couldn’t you have asked your wife to help you look?
BLEPYRUS: No, I couldn’t. . . . As a matter of fact, she isn’t here. She’s eluded me and is probably up to something bad.
NEIGHBOR: Surprise, surprise! I’ve run into the same thing.
My paramour’s gone off with the cloak I wear,
and my boots are missing, which is even more exasperating.
There’s no sign of them anywhere.
BLEPYRUS: Surprise, surprise! I couldn’t find my boots either,
and when I suddenly had to shit I bolted in these slippers
and managed to avoid doing it on the comforter,
which has just come back from the cleaners.
NEIGHBOR: And your wife? I expect she’s gone breakfasting
with one of her cronies.
BLEPYRUS: You’re probably right. I don’t think she’s depressed or
anything.
NEIGHBOR: [scrutinizing the bushes]
Seems to me you must be shitting a length of hawser.
Anyway, I’m off to the Parliament sitting
once I get hold of my cloak again—my one and only.
BLEPYRUS: Me, too, as soon as I’ve done my business here.
Trouble is, I’m blocked up by a sort of prickly pear.
NEIGHBOR: [as he leaves the balcony]
Blocked up like the way Thrasybulus made sure the Spartans
were.900
BLEPYRUS: Begad you’re right! . . . But I’m in a spot. [continuing to
himself ]
What do I do? Even after this I’m not
in the clear. What’s going to happen when I eat?
There’ll be more crap with nowhere to go:
all bottled up and the back door shut.
I need a doctor. Fetch one somebody, please.
But the right kind, an arsehole specialist, no less.
Does that fellow Amynon know? He’ll probably say no.
Then get hold of Antisthenes, oh, please!901
He’s a master of diagnosis when it comes to
blocked and grunting bottoms. . . . Oh, Madam Hileithya,
mistress of childbirth, I’m in labor, come and deliver
me—all blocked up inside though ready to shatter.
Say “not” to a comedy of the pot.
[CHREMES enters.]
CHREMES: What are you doing? Don’t tell me you’re having a shit?
BLEPYRUS: Thank heavens, no more! I’m upright once again.
CHREMES: But why are you wearing your wife’s slip?
BLEPYRUS: Well, it was dark inside the house when I got the grippe. But where on earth have you been?
CHREMES: The Parliament assembly.
BLEPYRUS: You mean, it’s over already?
CHREMES: Certainly is . . . even before sunup.
There was much merriment, dear God,
when they started branding us with red.902
BLEPYRUS: And you got your three obols?
CHREMES: Balls! I arrived too late, and I’m not exactly proud
of coming away empty-handed.
BLEPYRUS: You mean with nothing at all?
CHREMES: Nothing but my empty wallet.
BLEPYRUS: But why were you late?
CHREMES: Too much human traffic round the Pnyx. Something terrific.
One couldn’t help thinking of a crush of cobblers:
a pasty-faced lot the Assembly seemed.
So I and a bunch of others got nothing.
BLEPYRUS: And if I went now I, too, would get nothing?
CHREMES: Nothing. Even if the rooster has stopped crowing.
BLEPYRUS: That makes me prince of losers.
“Antilochus, for those three obols wail thee not
but for me who have lost all though am living yet.”903
What could possibly have been the reward for such a crowd
and at such an early hour?
CHREMES: What else could it have been but some idea
among the members of the committee for the saving of the city?
And of course the first thing to transpire
was old cross-eyed Neocleides groping towards the Chair
and trying to be the first to speak, which made the people
cry foul, shouting: “Isn’t it outrageous
that in the crucial business of our salvation this
scumbag has the nerve to harangue us
when he can’t even save himself from being cross-eyed?”
And he retorted with a yell, squinting like hell:
“How can I help it?”
BLEPYRUS: “Pound up garlic, figs and Spartan spurge, you nit,”
I’d have told him had I been there, “and smear
the paste on your eyelids when you go to bed.”
CHREMES: [sarcastically] Next on the scene came that great achiever
Euaeon,904
almost naked everyone present would have said,
though he would have it that he had a cloak on,
and he aimed his speechifying at the hoi polloi. “Let me mention,”
he said, “that I myself could do with some salvation—
a fourpenny bit would do it—I’ll tell you nonetheless
how to save the city and every citizen.
Let the garment makers when midwinter comes around
give everyone in need a cape, and then
we wouldn’t all be catching pneumonia. It would be nice
as well if everybody without blanket or bed were allowed
to sleep in the tanneries when they’d cleaned them up,
and any tanner in winter refusing to open
should be made to pay three sheepskin rugs.”
BLEPYRUS: By Dionysus, what a good suggestion!
But he would have got universal support if he’d added
that the grain merchants should open up their bags
and donate three measures for midday consumption
or face a stiff penalty. A fine collection
would have been got from Nausicylides—he’s padded.905
CHREMES: After that, a fair handsome young man looking like Nicias906
leapt to his feet to address the people and suggested
it wouldn’t be a bad idea to let the female class
take charge of the state, which everyone thought was great
and made this horde of cobblers cheer “Hear, hear!” But elsewhere
the country folk growlingly protested.
BLEPYRUS: Of course, they were using a little common sense.
CHREMES: But there were less of them and the young man
&
nbsp; bawled them out of court. In his opinion
women were the source of good and you of bad.
BLEPYRUS: What exactly did he say?
CHREMES: That you were a blackguard for a start.
BLEPYRUS: And you?
CHREMES: I’ll come to that. . . . And a crook to boot.
BLEPYRUS: Just me?
CHREMES: I’ll say so . . .
and pretty well everyone here.
BLEPYRUS: Who can say no?
CHREMES: Then he went on to say
that woman is a creature bursting with brains907
and a moneymaker, too, and that they never give away
the secrets of the Thesmophoria, unlike you and me,
who after Council meetings always spill the beans. . . .
Such is our behavior.
BLEPYRUS: Strike me, Hermes! That’s no untruth.
CHREMES: Then he pointed out how women lend each other
dresses, jewelry, money, goblets—one to one
without the need of witnesses and never loath
to give back everything or try to slip one over
like we men do and have done.
BLEPYRUS: Even when there are witnesses, holy Poseidon,
we men try to slip one over.
CHREMES: And he continued to heap praises on womenfolk:
they’re not traitors, don’t issue writs, don’t undermine
our democracy, have other commendable traits—a whole stack.
BLEPYRUS: So what was the plan?
CHREMES: To turn the city over to women—
something that seems never to have been tried before.
BLEPYRUS: And this went through?
CHREMES: Yes, I tell you.
BLEPYRUS: So now they’re going to look after everything that before
was the province of men?
CHREMES: That’s how it is.
BLEPYRUS: So my wife will be going to court, not me anymore?
CHREMES: And your wife will be looking after your dependents, not
you as before.
BLEPYRUS: And I won’t have to wake up with a gasp every morn at
dawn?
CHREMES: God, no, that’ll be your wife’s business. You can fart away all day at home quite gaspless.
BLEPYRUS: But men of our age run an awful risk:
the women, once they’ve seized power, can force us.
CHREMES: To do what?
BLEPYRUS: To fuck,
and if we can’t get it up they’ll refuse to make us breakfast.
CHREMES: Then you’ll jolly well have to learn to joggle, like this,908
if you’re going to fuck and have breakfast at the same time.
BLEPYRUS: But fucking by force is pure torture.
CHREMES: Nevertheless, if that’s the policy of the city
every red-blooded male will have to conform.
BLEPYRUS: Ah well, there’s an old saying that no matter
how senseless and idiotic is a program
everything’ll turn out for the best.
CHREMES: Yes, ye gods and Mistress Pallas,
for the best. . . . But farewell, my friend, go I must.
BLEPYRUS: And farewell to you, good Chremes.
[CHREMES and BLEPYRUS go off in different directions and the CHORUS reappears.]
LEADER: Forward march,
and turn to take a look to see if any man
is following us. Be careful, a suspicious batch
of men are loitering near. It could be one of them
is following us and watching every move.
STROPHE
CHORUS:
Proceed, as you march, with a bold step and stamp with verve.
It would be awful if our husbands came to know
And something blew the top off of our show.
If that happened, whatever would we do?
So make sure your cloaking is secure
And you’re looking around with both eyes,
Here, there and everywhere,
Left and right, for otherwise
Disaster’ll overtake our enterprise.
LEADER: Now then, get a move on. We’re almost at the spot
near Parliament for which we set out.
Look, there’s the building where our general dwells,
she who’s engineered this plot involving ourselves.
ANTISTROPHE
CHORUS:
Yes, there isn’t the slightest need for us to dally.
These beards of ours are barely hanging on.
We could be seen in the daylight easily
And then someone surely would turn us in.
So make a move now towards the shadows.
That means moving to the wall.
Keep your eyes skinned as well.
Wait a while and see what follows.
Then change back to the place you were in.
LEADER: There’s no time to waste, for I can see our general
heading in our direction from the Parliament;
so speed it up all of you and peel
those awful appendages off your jowls.
We’ve put up with them for longer than we meant.
[PRAXAGORA arrives.]
PRAXAGORA: Ladies, our design’s gone surprisingly well,
and now before some man catches sight of us,
dump those capes as fast as you can. Unlace
those Spartan boots, off with them. Meanwhile
fling away your sticks. [turning to LEADER] And you, miss, make
sure
the women are properly organized. I must steal
back to the house before hubby sees me, and restore
his cape and all the other paraphernalia.
LEADER: Everything’s been done according to your plans
and now it’s for you to give us further commands.
We so want to acquit ourselves well in your eyes.
I’ve never known a woman of such formidable enterprise.
PRAXAGORA: You’ll all be needed, so be at hand
ready for the job I’ve taken on. I realize
how manly you were during all that risk and noise.
[BLEPYRUS emerges from his house.]
BLEPYRUS: It’s you, Praxagora. What have you been doing?
PRAXAGORA: What is that to you, boss?
BLEPYRUS: What’s that to me, indeed? . . . Oh, so ingenuous!
PRAXAGORA: I suppose you’ll tell me I’ve been with a lover fucking.
BLEPYRUS: More than one, is my guess.
PRAXAGORA: Go ahead and find the evidence.
BLEPYRUS: How would it show?
PRAXAGORA: Smell any scent on my brow?
BLEPYRUS: Come on! A woman doesn’t need scent to fuck.
PRAXAGORA: No, worse luck.
BLEPYRUS: But why did you leave the house so early without a word
and go off with my cape?
PRAXAGORA: A friend of mine was in the throes of delivering a child.
BLEPYRUS: Even so, couldn’t you have said you were leaving?
PRAXAGORA: I was too distraught, hubby, thinking of her plight.
BLEPYRUS: You could have said a word.
Something shady’s in the offing.
PRAXAGORA: By the twain goddesses, there is not. I simply dashed off as I was. The maid who came for me said I mustn’t lose a minute.
BLEPYRUS: But what stopped you wearing your own slip? Did you have to fling it over me, swipe my cape, and leave me lying like a corpse in the morgue complete with wreath and funeral urn?
PRAXAGORA: Well, it was cold outside and I’m delicate and thin,
so I put your cape on to keep warm
and left you lying in bed as snug as a bug.
BLEPYRUS: And my Spartan boots walked off with you. Why? And my stick as well.
PRAXAGORA: With me your cape was perfectly safe,
and I wore the boots to sound like you with your staff,
stamping around and smiting the wa
ll.
BLEPYRUS: I’ll have you know you cost me eight bags of rye,
which would have been mine from Parliament.909
PRAXAGORA: Don’t worry. She had a boy.910
BLEPYRUS: Who? Parliament?
PRAXAGORA: Of course not. The woman I delivered. . . . So Parliament sat?
BLEPYRUS: God, yes, I told you all about it yesterday.
PRAXAGORA: You’re right. I remember now.
BLEPYRUS: But you’ve no idea what they sought to settle?
PRAXAGORA: No way.
BLEPYRUS: Then sit you down with some cuttlefish and nibble. They say the State’s been handed over to you women.
PRAXAGORA: For the sake of what? Sewing?
BLEPYRUS: Heavens no, for governing.
PRAXAGORA: Governing whom?
BLEPYRUS: Something that covers the whole urban span.
PRAXAGORA: By Aphrodite, the city’s in for a lovely time.
BLEPYRUS: How d’you mean?
PRAXAGORA: For every kind of reason:
it stops bullies from bullying all round the town,
and informers from false witnessing, and—
BLEPYRUS: For the gods’ sakes, don’t go on. You’re taking the words out of my mouth—I’ll starve.
[NEIGHBOR emerges from his house and stands listening.]
NEIGHBOR: My good sir, do let your wife go on.
PRAXAGORA:—there’ll be no more thuggery, no more envying
the man next door, no more having to live
dressed in shreds, no more paupers in the land,
no more quarreling, no more squeezing
some poor wretch who’s owing.
NEIGHBOR: All very nice, by Poseidon,
if it’s not just wishful thinking.
PRAXAGORA: Let me make it all clear to you and you’re bound to agree,
and even my husband here won’t contradict me.
CHORUS: Now’s the time to chivvy the brain And wake up your intelligence, Make it do some thinking again And come to your desperate defense. The happiness of all depends On the brain wave your tongue commends,
Brightening the lives of citizens
With untold benefits and blessings.
It’s time to bring it to the fore.
They need your inspired guessings
Pointing in the right direction.
Tell it in detail but make sure
That none of it’s been aired before
